Torrential Binding
by shikigami-kun
Summary: On a rainy night, Hakkai has some visitors. Yaoishonnen-ai 89 58 38 (lite citrus) Please be kind, and read and review! Domo! :D


Title: Torrential Binding

Author: shikigami-kun/Arldetta

Disclaimers: All is owned by the wonderful Minekura-sama. I'm just content to borrow them now and then. ;)

Summary: On a rainy night, Hakkai gets some visitors.

Author's Note & WARNINGS: First off, this is 'R' for a reason. Sexual content. Yaoi/shonnen-ai. Now, please be kind, this is my first attempt at minor hentai. I'm still learning so tell me if this was at least descent. As always, thanks for reading!! :D

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It's raining again. Seems like this Journey has been filled with more rainy nights than the three years since our first meeting. I try to stop the memories from coming, but there is little I can do to resist them anymore. They hurt, oh yes, they hurt, more than I can say, but it is my punishment. And even as I sit in the dim stillness my brooding of that fact is little comfort.

It wasn't surprising when the rain started. We watched the laden clouds above as we drove hoping that we would make it to the next inn before they decided to release their burden. As always the wicked twist of fate that toys with our lives did not permit us our desires. Just a few hours before we reached town a slow drizzle began which soon turned into the torrential downpour that is still coming down. Soaked and miserable we stumbled into the small inn. Amazingly enough, they were virtually vacant and we were each privileged with our own room.

Nights like this I relish the solitude where I can let down the mask and remember without prying eyes. Not that I dislike my companions nor that they do not already know my misery but the simple wish to wallow in my despair alone. And that is what I wish to truly be right now, alone, but I know it will not last. I know what my role is to my fellow journeymen and I accept it completely. I am a healer and a confidant. When they can talk to no one else, they come to me. And when they hurt they look to me to take away the pain.

Sometimes it can be a burden, but I know that it also is part of my punishment. And as I said before I accept it completely. My personal needs and desires are of little consequence, I forfeited my right to have them on that fateful day long ago. So they have morphed into the need and desire to ensure my friends' happiness. Now it is just a matter of time. I cannot say for certain I know which will come first, but I have a very good idea.

As we watched the sky darken above, the monk's temper steadily rose. His own pain causing him to snap and spit out crude and harsh words. Glancing in the rearview mirror of Jeep I could see the hurt in bright golden eyes. I could hear the diffidence and uncertainty in that young voice every time he addressed the blonde. Sanzo had always been the boy's sun, so it is no surprise he craves the moments when he can bask in it freely. But those are rare and have become even less frequent as the journey progresses. The man's brooding has also increased.

As predicted, I hear the soft tapping on my door before it slowly creaks open just enough to let the nimble figure slide through. Turning ever so slightly from the window I had been facing I catch the silhouette of the young brunette in the corner of my vision. He remains leaning against the door, waiting for my permission to enter my solitude. I know what he needs and in a way I need it to. Automatically, my hand reaches out inviting him in. His response is lightening quick as he rushes into my embrace.

He craves the love that has been denied him by his sun. Just as the grey sky has blocked the monk's contentment, his mood has dampened the sage's soul. I know I can never be his sun, but if I can at least be a star to guide him in the darkest nights then I have at least fulfilled my task.

For some time we hold each other in silence. With him, it is always gentle. After the quiet embrace, his hands inform me that his needs have grown. Slowly, softly he slips beneath my white undershirt. I had already changed for the night, waiting for the inevitable. The caress illicits a shudder from me and I let out a quick breath. His innocence reminds me so much of my Kanan. And it is for this reason that I allow this to happen. On these torturous rainy nights I crave her touch the most. Her innocence, like the ancient being's below me, could never be tainted by anything. Even the incestuous sin we committed willingly could not disrupt that, and neither could this act now.

He needs to feel love, and I am willing to grant him that desire. Leaning him back on the bed, I run my hands over bare skin, caressing, soothing away the ache in his heart. The gentle petting soon becomes needy. Before long, clothes have been abandon to the floor and we are entwined in each other. Our lips touch, hesitate for an instant before they lock. After some prodding on my part, our tongues join in the dance. In the midst of the kiss, I reach down and do my best to prepare him. He is the ever-willing partner and within minutes he is ready to accommodate me. Carefully, sliding into place, our gasps of pleasure remain hushed and throaty. Lying together, our pace is steady, methodical. But as our bodies' needs overpower our minds, our movements quicken with hunger.

From the moment the holding switched to intimacy, my eyes closed and in my mind all I could see was her. I know she's not there, but I cannot help but pretend. My eyes remain closed through the entire act and for some reason I believe he does so as well. Just as I pretend he is my lost lover, I am certain his mind is filled with his sun. Not that I mind. It is an unspoken mutual agreement that we have. One that I am thankful for. So we relinquish to our fantasy.

Climax mounting, we grasp each other tightly, afraid to let go of the illusion too soon and come crashing back to reality. My one hand trapped between us as I see to his needs, as much as I satisfy my own. Before long, our bodies spasm in unison. Both of us choking back the cry in our throats while we peak. Now spent, I rest against him and we lie there together content.

Eventually, the calm aftermath separates us and he manages to sit up. I watch him thoughtfully and he glances back down at me. His large gold eyes lock with mine and they are smiling in quiet gratitude. I offer him a smile to let him know that I have accepted it and return it as well. He leans over and gives me a quick peck on the cheek then rises. He gathers his things without a word, slips them on and then slips back out of my room.

Alone again, I reach down and pull my shirt and pants back on. Lying there, I think about our hushed rendezvous. I find it ironic that for one who cannot seem to stop himself from speaking during the day can manage to be so speechless at night. Still, I enjoy the tender moments we share as they satisfy our silent pleas. Unfortunately, not all my encounters come and go as a cool summer breeze.

I wonder how long before another midnight arrival stops by. I do not bother pondering the question as I allow my eyelids to drop and I nestle into the sheets around me. I must have slipped into a light doze, for the next thing I recall is the single hard rap on my door before it is opened wide to admit the confident redhead. Glancing sleepily up at the silhouette in my doorway, I can see the bright amber glow of his cigarette brighten as the man draws in another breath.

A moment later, he steps into my room and closes the door behind him. He takes one last drag of his cigarette before he snuffs it out in the ashtray by my bed. He flops down next to me and plants his hands on either side. Leaning over me, I can see his gaze is slightly unfocused and smell the liquor on his breath mixed with tobacco. In a deep voice, with a hint of a slur, he says, "I know you like to be alone when it rains, but it's not healthy. You need someone to distract you." I see the quick flash of lust in his crimson eyes. "I can distract you. I know plenty of ways to distract you."

I try to suppress the tremor that goes through me. Oh, yes, he knows plenty of ways. In contrast to Goku's sweet touches, Gojyo is raw passion. Mesmerized by the wanting need that's in his every movement, I lie there anticipating our union. I can feel my heart racing. And then he takes one hand and slips it under my neck, pulling me up to meet him. The next instant our lips are pressed together then forced open so that we are free to explore the warm moist caverns inside. We pull apart gasping for air. He quickly adjusts his position so that he is lying on top of me.

Those brief seconds we are separated are almost too much for me. My body is riff with eagerness. I can feel myself trembling while he removes his shirt and then carefully reaches down to remove mine. His hands hungry to touch me, feel me. I know what he wants, what it is he wants from me so I give it freely. A deep throaty moan escapes me. And even with my eyes closed I can see his smile.

His skill well practiced and one I have enjoyed frequently. He knows how to please and be pleased at the same time, making the experience incredibly mutual and exciting. Our lips lock frequently, desperate to taste each other. And suddenly, I'm gasping and writhing beneath him as his hand slips down to caress me and gain entrance. So unlike the first encounter tonight, the tides have turned and I am the one being prepared. And what sweet preparation it is. He is an expert at driving you to the brink of madness, forcing you to plead for more.

And I do, I beg him. I can feel the tears forming in the corner of my eyes as the torture continues. When I think I can stand no more, he finally claims me, stifling the thankful cry in my throat with his mouth. And then the torture begins anew. The methodical pumping drives me insane, I need more, want more. He understands my unspoken desires and answers it with his own. Holding me, guiding me, he finds ways to thrust deeper so that I accept every last bit of him.

One of his hands snakes between us and I choke back a pleasured cry when he takes hold of me. My mind is reeling, unable to hold a thought. My only wish to find that rewarding pinnacle hovering just beyond my reach. His timing is perfect, with each thrust there is a simultaneous stroke and I have lost all my wits. I am his, his to toy with, his to torture, his to claim.

Our mutual need to finish finally takes control. Our movements are frantic and demanding. And finally we achieve explosive bliss, bodies spasm from the ultimate high. Sweat coated and utterly content, he collapses in a flaccid heap on top of me. Automatically, my arms wrap around him, holding him. He snuggles against me craving a different kind of affection. Relaxing, my mind once again resumes it's wandering. All his life he has been searching for the mother he lost, and when he finds her he will do everything in his power to please her. In a way that is what he is doing, pleasing every woman in the only way he knows how. But then, when morning comes he realizes that it is not what he's looking for. That is where I fit in. I may not be his mother but I can return the love he longs for. Sighing, I hold him closer. Before my thoughts can stray too far, I feel him moving again. He leans over and gives me one last longing kiss. "I told you I could distract you." He smiles.

"I never denied it." I answer back with a smirk. He gives me a quick chaste kiss and then rises. I watch almost sadly as he prepares to leave. A part of me wants to tell him to stay, but I know he won't. I also know why and accept his reasoning. Gojyo had his playboy image to protect and he didn't want the others knowing about our relationship. The door closes with a final click behind him.

I wanted to tell him that I don't think they would really care if he went both ways' or not. But then again, I understand that these visits were also along the lines of a psychiatrist and their patients. Even if it's the same problem, each personally had their own issues and client confidentiality was key. So I allow the farce to go on. Little did the red-head know that he wasn't the only one of the group to seek solace in my arms, even in the guise of granting me happiness. Nor would he be the last.

Deciding once again to allow myself the comfort of sleep, I drift off. Time is fleeting, it is a common saying, but one that I find to be true. Not much of it could have passed when I heard my door open for the third time this evening. This time there was no knock, no warning of the intrusion, a hint of what was to come. I don't bother to look I know who's there. He usually comes in the early morning, once he knows that the other two have finally gone to bed.

My eyes flicker over to the window. It's still raining. Sighing, I wait for him. The monk is the enigma that I try to solve every single day. His moods can be as violent or as gentle as the wind. And their sway just as invisible. There have been times when he has come as mild as the monkey. There have even been a couple of times where he has come as passionate as the hanyou. But most of the time, he comes just as he has tonight.

The silence is deafening. Tension slowly filtering it's way into the room. And still I wait, wait for him to make his move, because it is what he needs. That rainy night so long ago, the night he lost his master, he had come to realize a number of things. One that he found out that he was only human afterall. And with that realization he learned that he could be weak at times, even helpless. That he could love and be hurt by loss. But most importantly he did not have absolute control. It was control he sought for in every fiber of his being. Control that could stop the pain within. If he had control over his body, he would be strong. If he had control over his fear he would never be helpless. And if he had control over his heart he wouldn't love and thus face the pain of loss.

And so I wait, allowing him to take control of our encounter. Eventually, I hear the soft pads of his feet make their way over to me. Looking up, I cannot see his eyes, lost in the dark shadow cast by his bangs. He does not have his robe on, just the tight fitting shirt, the partial gloves on his arms, and a simple pair of black slacks. While I lie under the blanket already deprived of my clothing. We remain like that for minutes longer, until at last he moves.

Acting on the demand engrained in his soul, he straddles me. Reaching up, he grabs a tuft of my hair and forces my head back so that he can claim my mouth easily. I offer no resistance, the instant before he pressed our lips together I saw the hard glint in violet eyes. Yes, he needed to dominate, needed to feel he controlled something. And I freely relinquish mine to him, knowing that this will incite him further. The bruising kiss abandoned he bites down on my exposed neck. His teeth dragging along the tender skin but not breaking it. A particularly hard bite makes me jerk and a quick whimper escapes.

He pauses, leans back and looks down at me. I can see a flash of apology in that purple gaze which is immediately replaced with demand. I do nothing as he yanks the sheet from my torso. His hands start rubbing at my skin, somewhere caught between caress and fervent need. Already been aroused twice this evening, his ministrations confuse my body. Responding to the touch naturally while exhaustion played at the fringes of my mind. Not thinking, I reach out for his chest, sweeping my hands across it. Toying with hardened nubs under soft cloth, a moan manages to break free from the monk.

Suddenly, I'm pinned to the bed. I have overstepped my role and I will soon pay for it. My hands held down by the man's weight, another bruising kiss forces me to accept his tongue. We fight for a moment until I surrender. His taste similar yet so vastly different from Gojyo's. The lingering taste of tobacco, even I can tell the difference between their favourite brands. Gojyo's Hi-Lites seemed somewhat lighter as compared to the sharper, bitter taste of the Marlboros. Each flavour making each man's taste that much more unique.

After governing my mouth and chest, he reaches down with one hand, still holding my wrists above my head with the other, and pulls the last of the sheets away revealing my entire body. He is now the sole ruler of my body and soul, dictating my pleasure and pain. He handles me for a while until I start answering his actions with short pelvic thrusts. Pressed between my legs he begins to taunt me maliciously with harder pumps from above. And yet he still has not claimed me. But his frantic movements hinted that it would not be far off.

The monk suddenly releases my hands and in the same motion flips me over onto my stomach. I hear the hasty motions to free himself from the slacks that were now too tight to fit him. The firm grip on my hips is the only warning I receive before he pushes his way in. I bite my lip so that I do not cry out. He does not need my pain, only my submittal. He does not pause. My hands clench into fists, gathering the sheets on the bed in them. Each pump grating inside me.

I do my best not to cry out at the pain, only a few whimpers I cannot hold back could be heard. But they were missed by the grunting man behind me. Driving relentlessly away at his hunger and need. Soon the pain morphs into pleasure as a hard thrust hits that perfect spot. I can't stop the gasping moan in my throat. His pelvis rams me harder in attempts to drive away his own pain. I know it is not his intention to harm me, and probably if he knew he would stop, but I cannot deny him this release. He needs this momentary absolute control and I owe him so much.

But all thoughts are tossed to the wind when his hand reaches underneath to grab me. And soon I am brought to the brink with him, only to feel his body jolt in the sudden burst of fulfillment. The wash of heat is just enough to send me over the threshold of pleasured pain and I quiver beneath him as my body let's go as well. No longer having the strength to hold ourselves up, we crash to the bed in a heap.

Breathing heavy, we succumb to the exhaustion for the moment. Lying in his arms, I begin to drift off in a thankful slumber, having been spent thrice this night. But it was not meant to last. Him, like the others, managed to remove themselves from my bed. He pulled up his pants, since he had never fully undressed, then padded his way out into the hall back to his own room.

I was alone again. And this time I knew there would be no more visitors. Suddenly my previous contentment turned into something darker. I felt dirty, used, a tool merely present to satisfy their needs. There seemed to be little regard for my wishes, each assuming that this was something I wanted. How did they know what I want? They never asked, just swept in and out of my bed when they had finished with me. If I had wanted it, I would have gone to their rooms. Wouldn't I?

I curl up pulling the sheets tightly about my nude form. Squeezing my eyes shut, I try to sort through my wayward thoughts. Maybe they were right, maybe I did want this. If I had truly not wished for their intrusion I would have locked the door to my room, but I hadn't. But still, had I wanted their company I would have left the door open as an invitation. I can feel the sting of tears in my eyes but I deny them passage. Because deep down I know the truth.

I did want this. I wanted to pretend to be back in her arms again. I wanted to thank the man who saved my life when I should have been left to die like the animal I was at that point in time. And I wanted the inconsistency but more importantly I wanted the pain that my keeper offered. It is part of my punishment. When Sanzo stepped in for me with the Sanbutsushin I became his to command, his to control. If not for him, the life Gojyo rescued would have been snuffed out. My own wants, needs, desires, hopes, all penalties for the atrocious act I committed. And still commit.

No more did I live for myself, I lived for others. An act of penitence. No hell could be worse than living without her. No heaven could be found if we could not be together. And now that I have them I realize that we all share the same fate. We have each been denied in some form or another the one thing we cannot possess. Love. My Sister. Gojyo's mother. Sanzo's Master. And Goku, well Goku has always been an outcast, deprived of so much more than just love. Five hundred years wasted away in the confines of a stone cell atop Mount Gokyu. So if love is the one thing I can offer them, then I will give it. And in return I receive the haunted form of love. And it is this love that binds us together.

Sighing, I sit up. The mixture of fluids on my skin has become rather uncomfortable. My sore body manages to stand after the mistreatment from my latest visitor. I should be able to use the bath quickly to wash off before finally getting some rest. There's only a few hours left until morning. I hurry and come back, grabbing a spare blanket from my gear and sleep above the soiled sheets. I should just have enough time to recover from the night before morning. Then it's only a matter of time before the next quiet meetings.

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Well, I hope it wasn't horrible. I kinda liked the way this turned out. But if you have any suggestions, please let me know. A review or two would definitely make my day!! :D THANK YOU! DOMO! DANKE! :D


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